


Friendship

by Jouliette



Category: Persuasion - Jane Austen
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Era, F/M, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:54:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 14,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27454576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jouliette/pseuds/Jouliette
Summary: The story begins aboard the HMS Grape just arrived in Plymouth after Napoleon's exile to Elba, in 1814.Its captain, Commander James Benwick, had received a visit from his friend Captain Frederick Wentworth.But the young commander's close friend has come to bring the saddest news: Fanny Harville, James's fiancée, is dead.Predictably, James falls into the greatest despair and grieve, and Frederick does anything in his power to give some relief to his friend.Eventually, Frederick no longer knows how to shake James out of the numbness that is overtaking him. So, in the name of friendship and after sharing a lot of wine and spirits, he tells his friend about his own loss, forcing himself to face the ghosts of his past.
Relationships: Anne Elliot/Frederick Wentworth
Comments: 24
Kudos: 58





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1  
  


"Frederick ..." A weak voice, barely audible, shook him out of his thoughts, forcing him to turn toward the bunk which sustained the exhausted figure of his friend.

James had collapsed there, after yet another crisis of despair, yet another cry, cursing and anger at the cruel fate that had hit him so hard.

All the arguments had been used in the last three days, all the words spent, the gestures made. But nothing could alleviate that immense pain.

No words, no gestures.

Even alcohol could not provide more than temporary relief, the empty bottles, resting on the table in the Captain's cabin, stood there as a silent testimony; empty as empty felt the two men who had shared them.

Both had refused the laudanum that the doctor had, albeit reluctantly offered, knowing full well that the hallucinations could be even more painful, even procure the illusion of a different reality, which on awakening would be even more cruelly false.

Only friendship, warmth, understanding of their bond remained.

Having challenged death side by side, however, had not made them stronger in the face of it.

Death in battle was familiar to them, but how to react if this torment struck an innocent girl?

Its cold weight had come down to crush the hearts of both of them; that of the one who had lost what he loved most in the world, as well as that of the one who had had to bring that terrible news.

Not knowing how to relieve his friend's pain, Frederick finally decided to offer his own personal experience.

He too had been so cruelly devastated, once.

Once.

A long time ago.

Yet the wound was still bleeding.

He had thought it healed, cicatrised, almost forgotten.

But just talking about it had caused new pain.

Then why?

Why had he wanted to talk about it after so long?

Because James needed hope.

Because otherwise he could have fallen into the deep abyss of sadness, and might never re-emerge from it.

For this, Frederick had decided to open his heart.

Really open it, like his ship's surgeon cut the flesh of the wounded to extract a bullet.

So Frederick had extracted a secret. Talked about his descent into, and ascent out of hell, in the hope that James would draw distraction and comfort from it.

As he watched over the sobbing body of his young friend, Frederick had gone back in time to eight years before.

-Exactly, eight years ago- He thought to his own surprise.

That year, the sad anniversary that every year saw him sullen and restless had been made even more painful by the terrible news received upon his arrival in Portsmouth.

He shouldn't have had time to think about her that year.

The painful succession of memories that every year, punctually and in an almost religious order, presented itself to him in an alternation of different and contrasting moods, and that always came to poison every summer, whether it be in the tropical waters of the West Indies or the blue ones of the Mediterranean, had been shocked by the visit of his brotherly friend, Harry Harville.

Harry had requested permission to come aboard Captain Frederick Wentworth's ship, the Laconia, at the very moment he learned that she had been docked in port.

The sight of his friend's pale face and red eyes was enough for Frederick to replace the warm smile with which he had prepared to receive him with an expression of anguish.

Harry's face was hardly not smiling, not even the wound he suffered in battle two years earlier and which had forced him to retire from active duty had managed to take away his proverbial good humour.

But the death of his beloved younger sister, Fanny, did.

That had extinguished his smile.

And the devastating illness that had wrested Fanny from the affection of her loved ones seemed to have emptied Captain Harville of all energy.

Getting to Plymouth to break the terrible news to Fanny's fiancé, Captain James Benwick, who was expected in port with his ship at any moment, was a venture that, according to Frederick, was far beyond Harry's current physical and mental means.

So, he hadn't hesitated to offer himself up for the terrible task.

Harry, Frederick and James had served together for many years, supporting and helping each other; the friendship that united them was solid and deep, going far beyond the usual bond between colleagues.

Harry's children regarded as an uncle, not only James who had long been engaged to their aunt, but also Frederick who had been in their company since their birth. And Margareth, Harry's wife, was fond of them just like two brothers.

And just like a brother, Frederick, who of the three was the one with a most solid career, had recommended Harry to stay in Portsmouth watching over Margareth and the children, already shocked enough by the loss of their beloved Fanny and leave to him the task of fetching James in Plymouth.

This would have led to the need for leave to absent himself away from the command of Laconia, which had just returned from the war on Napoleon's France, but not yet officially dismissed.

Frederick had applied for such a leave, but without waiting for confirmation, he had left hastily for Plymouth, hoping to reach the port before the Grape would dock.

Only when travelling by stagecoach, his mind had been able to return to wander in his personal pain.

He was preparing to give James the worst news: the woman he had loved and expected to marry for five years had died two months earlier. Frederick knew well what devastation would hit his friend's heart, because it was the same one that regularly returned to him, year after year, from that distant 1806.

The pain for the loss of Fanny became a pain for the loss of love, pain for the loss of Anne.

Anne, who had haunted him even after breaking up their engagement.

Everywhere, she caught him.

The memory of their first meeting did the summer start, that of their separation marked its end. And in the midst, a thousand memories, a thousand moods that over the years, Frederick had faced in the most varied ways.

At first, the anger had taken over, but it had saved him from the dejection; the sense of inadequacy that those useless, inept aristocrats had tried to convey to him, with their considering he "a miserable alliance" to a baronet's daughter.

He was sure that his anger had saved him; that was what he wanted his friend to understand.

For this, he had decided to talk to him about Anne; after three days in which James had done nothing but cry, despair and invoke death for himself also.

Anger could save James, shake him, and push him to go on living, just like he had.

Frederick had allowed anger to replace love, disappointment to take over hope and for Anne to be thrown out of his mind, defeated as the worst of enemies.

Instead, just that year, she had come even more forcefully into his thoughts.

Perhaps because for the first time in years, he was returning to England.

Perhaps because she who had caused so much upheaval among his friends with her passing away, was a woman who in many ways resembled her.

Perhaps because even his friend had now lost the love of his life and their every talk revolved around this loss.

Everything had helped bring Anne back to his thoughts, not only accompanied by the usual burden of anger and disappointment, but also with something else.

Something that like a clamp gripped his heart tightly, and that only his name murmured by James's slurred voice had interrupted.

"Why do you think she is lost forever?"

"Because that's the way she is" Frederick replied surprised that his friend was still awake.

During his telling, James had gradually stopped sobbing and he, thinking the other was asleep, continued with his story. As if to narrate it to himself, for the first time in eight years, aloud. And strangely, this had been that sort of summary that had kind of thrown salt on his wounds.

\- Trying to heal the sick I also hurt the healthy one! - He thought angrily.

But then, he could not fail to notice that part of relief brought freeing himself from that burden.

Confiding, albeit with a friend asleep as well as desperately afflicted, seemed liberating, so he divulged details, indicating names, dates and places, completely emptied his heart as never before.

"But she's still alive ..." James murmured again "And you can't know for sure what's in her heart ..."

"She's ..." Frederick's voice was strangled, that thought was exactly what had gripped his heart "I ... I suppose she's alive" That uncertainty had devoured him in the last few moments, the thought that she might not be less frail and vulnerable than Fanny, that even Anne could have succumbed to a banal fever. But he decided to banish that fear and went on with disdain:

"Her heart? There was nothing for me, in her heart, James"

"But it must have been!" The force with which his grieving friend had pulled himself up to sit in the cot, exclaiming those words, left him astonished and forced Frederick to jump back that almost made him fall from his chair, while James continued with equal impetuosity:

"She accepted your proposal, she was just one step away from becoming your wife!"

"But she didn't really want it" Frederick grimaced, still not believing that James had really listened to his whole story.

-Are we really discussing Anne?- He thought dumbfounded.

"How can you tell?" James insisted, his eyes red from crying now seemed on fire.

"James, she let herself be persuaded to break the engagement without putting up the slightest resistance ..." It was decidedly tragicomic to find himself discussing this with a man who had just lost the woman he was supposed to marry.

"You can't know!" James interrupted him with an energy that he must have kept well hidden in those three days when he had rarely left his cot "And if you don't try to find it out now, the thought will haunt you all the rest of your life, Frederick! It is your duty to find out!"

"What? Listen, James, I only told you about this story because I wanted to tell you how diligence and dedication to the profession helped me overcome ..."

"The profession? Do you really expect the profession to mean something to me now that I no longer have Fanny to share the joys with?" James exploded.

“James! I remind you that part of your crew is still on this ship and that your main duty is to the Navy, the Crown and your homeland" Frederick thundered, worried that his friend's exclamation had been heard outside the captain's quarters. Although everyone was informed of the misfortune that had struck their commander, and they were in solidarity with him, it was not the case to give them the idea that the ship was in disarray.

"The duty? Was this then your salvation? " James lowered his voice but could not stifle the sobs "Do you really think duty can prevail over grief?"

"It can, at the very least, help you soothe it, my friend" Frederick hoped he hadn't had to bare his heart unnecessarily. The feeling of risking two broken hearts, trying to lift one, became more pressing in him "To forget ..."

"And can you, honestly, say that your duty made you forget a woman you loved eight years ago?" James resumed, with desperation in his eyes "Because the fact that you told me about her, now, let to believe quite the opposite, my friend"

"Look, James, I'm not telling you that tomorrow you will have forgotten Fanny, or in a month or a year" Frederick replied, determined not to let his feelings be discussed "But you have a brilliant career ahead of you, a profession that you love and that has given you, and will give you much satisfaction; it can really be a refuge at a time like this"

"And you will see" He continued, seeing James's eyes fill with tears again "That one day you will meet someone who can arouse love again in you, and with whom to share life. Fanny would not have wanted you to be sad and alone forever"

"Just like you did?" James raised his head and stared at him with an insolence that Frederick could never have tolerated at another time.

"I ... I have been almost always at sea and I have not had many opportunities to ..." He blathered.

"You forget that I have been with you for a good part of the past eight years!" James replied resolutely "And I have seen you waste all the opportunities that have arisen. While I fell in love" He sobbed loudly "And got engaged to my sweet Fanny, you disdained all women who approached you. And now I know why" He collapsed back onto the cot and his sobs became loud again. The memory of his meeting with his fiancée overwhelmed him and threw him back into the numbness from which he had emerged only a few minutes earlier.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The next morning, James wanted to resume the subject, again.

Frederick Wentworth desperate for love was an image too distant from the one he had always had of his dear friend.

It was true that, in hindsight, the story he had told him explained many, if not all, of his strange behaviours.

Certainly, it made him in the eyes of a romantic and dreamy character, like that of James Benwick, even more in need of his friendship and even more compassionate than before.

In fact, not only, Frederick Wentworth had risked a lot, abandoning his ship to make sure to reach his friend in Plymouth and give him the dire news before anyone else, without waiting for his leave application to be accepted, jeopardizing his career, reputation and even his own safety; he had also watched over him, day and night, since his arrival on the Grape. And then he had opened his heart to him, telling him something that, evidently, continued to upset him not a little, and that in any case, he had never told him before, in the long years spent at sea, together.

That morning, however, even through the veil of his eyes now perpetually and desperately wet, James could not fail to notice that Frederick looked almost as desperate as himself. And he could not help himself from trying to lighten the weight that seemed to have curved his friend shoulders since he had told the story of his old, lost love.

"Frederick" He began slowly, facing the back of the friend who after dismissing the steward, was pouring coffee for both of them "Have you ever thought of giving her news? Your news, to Miss Anne, I mean"

Frederick turned to look at him, his gaze seemed to almost invoke pity but with his usual and proverbial courage he replied:

"Yes, I did" He paused, almost as if to collect his thoughts "But then I destroyed the letter I wrote to her" He shrugged and went back to taking care of the cups.

“So you haven't heard anything about her anymore? And aren't you curious to know something about her current life?"

"It was a long time ago, James" Frederick gave him what he wanted to be a nonchalant smile "I'm sure that as a good obedient daughter, she will have married the man her father has chosen for her, and now she will be Lady Something and delighting herself in gossip in some sumptuous drawing room” But his irony appeared, to his friend, only painful bitterness.

"What if she was still Miss Elliot and still haunted by the memory of your lost love?"

Frederick didn't know whether to be more struck by the meaning of the words or by the fact that James, who had always been the best of all the officers he'd ever had under his command, remembered her name so dangerously well.

"No, it can't be" He replied, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat "It was she herself who sent me away"

"At her age and in her circumstances what would have been the alternative?"

"The alternative?" Frederick turned two eyes full of fury on him “To marry me as she promised to do! To come away with me!"

"Even Fanny refused to go against the will of her family, the will of Harry, Frederick" At the sudden jerk of his friend, James opposed a calm that surprised not a little, Frederick "You know we waited five years, precisely because of my position that was too precarious at the time"

Frederick did not answer; it was evident that he was trying to dominate a thousand emotions that crowded his heart.

"I was only a lieutenant when I got engaged" James continued with the same calm "But you were already a commander, your wait would have been shorter"

"I told you it wasn't that, the problem!" Frederick's voice betrayed the anger he struggled to control; getting angry with James would have been unfair as well as useless "And anyway it's perfectly superfluous to talk about it now"

"So, can you say with absolute certainty that you managed to get her out of your heart?" James insisted.

"Whether I succeeded or not" Frederick replied, after a moment of pause and with a sincerity that betrayed his ancient pain "It's been too long. A woman like Anne cannot be unmarried yet; every sane man would surely aim to win her love"

This time it was James's turn to take pity on the other; it was clear that his words had dug deep into his friend's heart.

Frederick Wentworth's proverbial, invincible armour had collapsed.

"I just want to move on, James, as I'm sure she did" He added in a whisper.

"Frederick, she's alive" James couldn't hold back a sob "And you've never forgotten her. If you really want to move on, don't leave any doubts between you. Please, do appreciate having the chance, not everyone has this luck” His sobs became thicker but he refused to go back to bed, and let the tears run freely down his cheeks; there was no reason to hide them from such a dear friend.

And in fact, Frederick, placed his hands on his shoulders, as if to cheer him up.

"It is a possibility that I could not exploit if I had really condemned her to a life of remorse, don't you think?" He replied softly "Which woman would attach herself to a man who spoke hateful words to her and then left without giving any news of himself in years?"

"A woman truly in love" James muttered as Frederick retreated to the window. Only the sea, with its slow and reassuring movement, could soothe the pain that he felt enveloping his heart at that moment.

His friend's words had carved such a deep furrow in it, that Frederick felt the need for a few hours of solitude that day. And for the first time in four days, he stepped out of his friend's cabin and with the excuse of seeking a response to his leave request, he went ashore and strolled along the harbour, looking for a peace he knew he could not find.

The thoughts that crowded his mind were too many. The image of Anne, as he had seen her last time, kneeling on the ground, bent over and shaken by sobs, gave him no respite.

Could she really have sent him away without ceasing to love him?

And what would have happened otherwise?

Sir Walter Elliot, in his cowardice, had neither given nor denied his consent to the alliance but had refused to grant Anne the dowry due.

How and where could she have lived with only the means provided by the position that Frederick held at the time?

Embarked with him, like his sister with her husband?

But really, Frederick, would have risked her life so much and took Anne on a dangerous and old ship like the Asp?

No, he would refuse that command, he could not bear to endanger her life, nor to leave her ashore alone in Portsmouth, with no family or friends to watch over her.

He would have expected a better commission.

But would this ever come?

Because without the Asp, he would not have captured the Laconia, nor would he have conquered her command, the consequent promotion and all the successes and luck due to his dazzling subsequent career.

Had Anne thought and foreseen all this?

Was it wisdom and not lack of love that guided her choice?

-I came to Plymouth to bring consolation, preach patience and show the way to relief- He thought disconsolately –Instead, I find myself drowned in pain and despair-

In his cabin, James was continuing to alternate the thought of his beloved, and lost, Fanny, with that of Frederick's story. He kept thinking of his generosity in rushing to his aid. He had been solid as a rock and affectionate as an older brother, in giving him all his support, after having had to break the worst news. The Frederick Wentworth loyal and reliable as always; efficient and at the same time delicate, in informing the Grape officers and ensuring that his friend was relieved of any burden, free to vent his pain.

For all these motives, James, could not refrain from wanting to reciprocate in some way, for his loyalty and friendship and, despite the pain that afflicted him, he had the clarity to plan and implement his purpose.

Choosing to take the risk of taking a step that, Frederick, could also have considered the end of their friendship, he took pen and paper and began to write.


	3. Chapter 3

Kellynch Hall was still immersed in silence when Anne entered the back door.

Sir Walter and his eldest daughter would not be down for another hour; by now the breakfast time, for them, had become increasingly late. This guaranteed Anne, returning from her usual morning walk, the luxury of being able to break her fast alone and to be able to read her father's newspapers in peace, lingering over certain news without having to hide.

Even if by now, after the news of the return of HMS Laconia to the homeland had already been reported, there were no longer many hopes of reading that name to which it was so linked, among the various news items.

Once again he was in England.

But by now the hope of hearing from him had abandoned her.

She knew well that had wasted her chance for happiness eight years before; there was no longer anything beautiful that life could reserve for her.

Not really, now that even Kellynch Hall was about to become part of her past.

Her father was finally persuaded to rent the estate, but not to retire to live in a more modest house in the same area, as she had advised, but to move to Bath.

Bath, which Anne absolutely hated.

She had been forced to return to that city immediately after the death of her beloved mother.

In that city, she had been dragged by her godmother, Lady Russell, immediately after breaking up her engagement with Frederick, in search of "distractions and new opportunities".

But, in eight years, neither ones nor the others had arrived.

A wedding proposal had arrived, this was true.

But no one could ever compete, in Anne's heart, with Frederick Wentworth.

To him, she had reserved her heart and to him alone, it had continued to belong.

That summer of happiness that Anne had spent with the young naval officer, would have been all the happiness that her life could contemplate.

The kisses she had granted him, the only kisses ever exchanged in her life.

Even though, the hope of seeing him again had long since abandoned her mind.

"Miss Anne" The butler approached the breakfast table and handed her a tray carrying an envelope "This has just arrived for you, Miss"

A letter bore his name, written in unfamiliar handwriting that left Anne slightly dumbfounded.

It did not happen often to receive mail, only Lady Russell and her dear old friend, Mrs Smith, used to write her, but that handwriting did not belong to either one or the other and did not seem written by a female hand.

-Has some Father's creditor gone so far as to even write to me?- After being approached on the street, nothing could surprise her anymore. Kellynch Hall's suppliers had long been on the warpath and every means was considered legitimate, to get hold of what was due to them.

But, as soon as the seal was broken and the letter opened, it was immediately clear to her that it was not a creditor at all, it was someone much more unexpected and destined to make her pass every trace of appetite.

_HMS Grape Plymouth Sound,_

_August the 8th 1814_

_Miss Elliot,_

_I take the liberty of writing to you although I never_

_had the honour of being introduced to you._

_My name is James Benwick, Commander of His_

_British Majesty's Royal Navy, and I begin by asking_

_your forgiveness for my impertinence._

_This letter of mine is intended to bring you news of_

_a mutual friend of ours, a Captain F.W., with whom_

_you had the opportunity to become acquainted eight_

_years ago._

Anne put a hand to her mouth. Sudden dizziness followed, after the heartbeat that had started right from the letter's header.

Her vision blurred and if she hadn't been sitting, she would certainly have fallen to the ground.

Frederick!

After so many years some news was reaching her, but by the hand of another person!

A stranger!

_I am sure that you have guessed his identity, I invite_

_you not to go further in reading, and to destroy this_

_letter, if you deem it inconvenient, in your present_

_condition._

Why was an unknown Navy officer writing to tell her about Fredrick?

Had something happened that prevented him from giving direct news to her?

Had the irreparable happened?

Yet his ship had returned ...

Her head was spinning even more wildly.

A stranger who took the risk of writing to an unmarried woman, to bring what news?

Of course, not insignificant news!

She swallowed and forced herself to continue reading.

_Only recently did I have the opportunity to receive_

_the confidences of the one who was first my superior,_

_and then granted me the honour of including myself_

_among his friends._

_And what kind of friend!_

_The best I could have, and to which I can only wish_

_all the best that life can offer to such a generous and_

_loyal man._

-He is alive, then? - Anne thought, although still in anguish.

-Wounded, perhaps? -

She had spent all those years following his career in the newspapers, spreading tears on the accounts of his daring exploits and in constant anxiety to read his name among those of the fallen, the wounded or the prisoners.

_It is for this reason that I have been so insolent to_

_write to you, Miss Elliot, and please forgive my_

_interference in your life, but it is intended for a_

_good purpose._

_Of that affection that binds me to my friend as to_

_a brother._

_First of all, I want to inform you that our mutual_

_friend is in excellent health…_

Anne sighed and rolled her eyes in thanks.

_…and that, since your last meeting, his position has_

_greatly improved._

_Indeed, the one you have known as Commander W._

_is today an esteemed and wealthy Post Captain,_

_one of the best in the entire British Royal Navy,_

_if I may say so without fear of sounding overly_

_obsequious._

_Please remember that in me it is the affectionate_

_friend who speaks._

Indeed, these changed circumstances, since they had occurred, had done nothing but confirm the resentment that he still had to feel towards her, since as her godmother had wanted cruelly to point out, if he had truly loved her, Frederick would have returned to renew his proposal, as soon as he obtained the promotion to captain.

_From the confidences I have received from him,_

_however, I have reason to believe that a single_

_victory has eluded his wishes, one that could have_

_been accomplished eight years ago, during a_

_family visit._

Anne felt her heart leap in her throat, but she didn't want to allow herself to even consider hope.

-Is it a joke?-

Had Frederick told an overly jolly colleague about her?

Was it some kind of revenge?

She decided to continue reading, forcing herself to remain as neutral as possible.

_And the only one who could really make his_

_realization as a man and an officer complete._

-What?- Neutrality was impossible to maintain.

_You will wonder why am I the one who is writing_

_to you, and you have all the rights._

_Well, my dear, dearest friend fears that he has_

_offended you and that he is no longer in the_

_position of being able to hope for your friendship,_

_although he has never forgotten it._

Anne covered her mouth with one hand, could she ignore further, the hope she felt invading her heart?

_But recent and sadly tragic personal events have_

_taught me that nothing can be definitive but death._

_In the hope of rendering a service to the one who_

_has done so much for me in the darkest hour of_

_my life, I have decided to trespass all the limits_

_of decorum and venture so much as to write this_

_letter so that my or his beliefs will be confirmed._

_If, therefore, you deem it possible to renew your_

_acquaintance, please write to Mrs Harville, who_

_is like a sister to me, at the Admiralty office in_

_Portsmouth. Unfortunately, I still don't know where_

_I will be staying, but from there my mail will be_

_easily forwarded._

_If instead, you should really believe that you have_

_suffered an offence, I would like to invite you to_

_consider the conduct of my friend with a_

_compassionate spirit and consider that he has_

_always remained your most faithful and devoted_

_friend._

_Again I beg your forgiveness for my insolence_

_and I pay you my respects_

_Your humble_

_Commander James Benwick HMS Grape_

The reading was not one of those that could be recovered quickly and Anne felt very dizzy.

What, exactly, did that letter mean?

What did it intend to communicate?

Commander Benwick was bound to Frederick by friendship and gratitude, this was clear.

He had gathered his confidences and assumed that Frederick still held her in high esteem.

Why had he never given news of himself, then?

His friend had been keen to specify his position, esteemed and wealthy, but since some years now.

Anne knew that the promotion had come only two years after their separation, and she had waited in vain for news from him. And of his fortune, derived from the many captured prey, she had repeatedly read in the newspapers.

Why give news only now?

Was it because the war had just ended?

Despite his position and fortune, had Frederick preferred not to contact her while the war was on?

And why confess her feelings to a friend and hide them from her, risking not to find her unmarried anymore?

Could Commander Benwick have misunderstood?

Frederick might have talked to him about the past but have no intention at all upon her, for the future.

\- Should I answer, or not? –

Writing to a stranger was risky. The lady in question, that Mrs Harville, could also have made known her letter, which was actually addressed to a man.

Besides, what was she supposed to write?

Renew their acquaintance? And then?

Would Frederick approve?

Was he aware of his friend's initiative? Everything suggested not, and that was exactly the situation that could have sparked his anger.

His anger.

Had he really forgiven her?

His last words rang in her mind.

He had sworn he would never forgive her, cursed the day he met her and the day he asked her to marry him. He had accused her of being weak and easily persuadable, fickle and unreliable!

Could he really consider her as the only victory capable of completing him?

A man like him had a full choice, among the many women he could easily fascinate.

Could he really regard her with so much importance?

For eight years, Anne had thought of possessing just his contempt, let alone his friendship!

And she didn't want to allow herself to hope further!


	4. Chapter 4

That night passed completely sleepless, for Anne, totally struggling between doubt and hope, misery and a strange form of happiness that she had to admit she could not resist.  
Frederick had talked about her to a close friend, and in positive terms, apparently. This was already much more than she had ever dared to hope.  
He did fondly remember her; he did even think he had offended her!  
Him, who had been humiliated by Sir Walter and Lady Russell, in every possible way.  
He, who had left Somerset with a heart she herself had torn to shreds.  
Did he keep a good memory of her, then?  
Did he still intend to be her friend?

Suddenly all the worries about her future, the imminent abandonment of her beloved home and the move to the hated Bath, left room in her mind for other thoughts.  
If she could number Frederick Wentworth on her friend's list again, all these burdens would have seemed lighter to bear.  
The remorse of having removed the smile from the beautiful face of the beloved man had tormented her for years; if there was a chance to give him back at least a little of that joy she had stolen from him, Anne, she was willing to take any risk.

Not better was Frederick’s night, prey to the remorse and doubt that James had instilled in him.

On the return journey to England, already in the midst of the usual torment brought by the summer, already completely prey to those dark green eyes that populated his dreams, Frederick had formulated the purpose of making a definitive change in his life.  
With the war over and Bonaparte exiled, a long leave awaited him. He would dedicate all his efforts to finding a wife.  
Yes, he wanted to start a family like Harville.  
There was no need for a woman to be madly in love with, like Anne.  
It was enough a constant woman, just a little resolute, reliable. He would have protected and respected her, after all not all marriages were based on love, mutual esteem was much more important.  
This would have been enough for him and for his part he would have committed himself to push away the image of those green eyes, he would have been a faithful husband even in his thoughts, he would have stopped thinking about Anne’s rosy lips, the sweetness of her kisses, the delicacy of her face.

Nevertheless, James, with his despair, with his irreverent pain, had called it all into question.

So now, Frederick restlessly turned, in the cot hanging in his friend’s cabin, even more in need of him, to seek relief in alcohol to fall asleep.  
Because the doubt that he would never be able to bind himself to another woman without having previously ruled out any possibility linked to Anne, was devouring him.

He tried to remember the last words she had addressed to him, among the sobs:  
"I will always love you"  
He had refused to believe her then, even to listen to her. He was too intent on shouting at her that he would never forgive, cursing the fate that put her in his way; she and her entire family of buffoons.  
Moreover, as he was screaming, she was murmuring in tears, continuing to profess her love to him, swearing that she would love him forever.  
And at some point she had fallen to her knees, exhausted, he had want to lift her, hug her, hold her tightly until she changed her mind, convince her to go away with him. Instead, his pride had immobilized him, frightened him.

Was it possible that that slender girl could have defeated a valiant naval officer like him?  
Was it possible that she had been persuaded by Lady Russell and not by the man, she was professing to love?

No, it was too much, his pride had not allowed him to endure beyond, he had turned and walked away with great strides, while she was laying bent over, shaken by sobs.  
"I will never forgive you, Anne," He had said for the last time and with all his anger.

Forgived? Frederick was unable to answer this question eight years later, while sweat was making impossible for him to sleep.  
But forgotten? Forgotten certainly not.

He got up and dressed trying not to wake up James, who finally seemed asleep, and went out to seek some refreshment and peace on the Grape upper deck.  
Soon, there would be no more sea to soothe his wounds and protect him from the memory of her, to guard him, dutifully at a distance from Somerset.

And as he was inhaling forcefully, the familiar salty smell, a thought assailed him.   
What if she kept her promise?  
What if she still loved him?  
And why would she swear to love him if she had just broken his heart?  
Why send him away if she still loved him?

No, there would not been a future if he had not cleared up the past.  
She would have haunted him forever, would not even let him cast a single look at another woman!  
James was right, how he could preach to him hope for a future happiness, if he himself was living anchored to the past.

Every effort had been in vain.   
As long as there had been the necessities of war occupying his mind, he had somehow survived; but now? What to do now? The moment of reckoning had arrived. The next day, he and James would leave for Portsmouth. Laconia would be dismissed and his mind would have a void too big to fill; he already knew that the cruel green-eyed mermaid would come to invade his every thought.


	5. Chapter 5

Margareth Harville received a small envelope from the Admiralty, which contained a letter addressed to the man who had been on the verge of becoming her brother-in-law, but who could no longer regard as anything other than a brotherly friend, unfortunately.  
So, she decided to hand it over to James immediately and without ask anything on the matter.  
He had just arrived, fortunately in the company of Frederick, who had travelled with him from Plymouth, and who had practically never left him alone after bringing him the terrible news.  
Despite the sadness that pervaded the whole house and all the family members, that letter seemed to lift, in part, the mood of Benwick; to the great surprise and consternation of those present, especially of Captain Harville, the brother of his late fiancée.  
Even more astonished was James' request to be able to seclude in the kitchen, so that he could read it alone.

Kellynch Hall August the 16th 1814

Commander Benwick,  
although I am not sure of the appropriateness of  
my answer; I trust that you will understand my  
reluctance to write to a man, unknown to me in  
addition; I intend to confirm my acquaintance with  
your friend, of which I keep a friendly memory.  
I do not think I have suffered any offence; on the  
contrary, I am sure I have caused many.  
For this reason, I ask you the courtesy, should you  
again receive his confidences, to offer my sincere  
apologies to your friend.  
Regarding his noticeably changed position, I am  
delighted and offer my sincere congratulations.  
I allow myself to confide to you that I have never  
harboured any doubts about the possibility that this  
change could take place, although he has in any  
case, in any condition, always owned my friendship.

Kindly, I greet you

Miss Anne Elliot

About to leave Kellynch, due to her father's disastrous financial situation, Anne did not want to appear opportunistic.  
By now, their respective circumstances were completely reversed: Frederick was the rich man to whom any father would, more than willingly, grant the hand of his daughter; Anne, for her part, was the twenty-seven-year-old daughter of a penniless baronet on the verge of bankruptcy; no more dowry or youth to offer.  
It would have been quite offensive to give the impression of wanting to renew the friendship with a man that she and her family had humiliated when he was poor, only for his recent wealth.  
At first, she had thought of writing a short and less detailed answer as possible, fearing that the story was all a joke, but then, certain that the regret would not give her rest, she decided to try for everything. And in case Frederick is really the indirect beneficiary of that answer, to send a clear and unambiguous message.  
Of course, she did not want to invite an answer, it would be too much.  
But clarifying her predisposition and asking for forgiveness from him, was more than enough to get him to make the next move, if that was really his wish.

"I think this letter is more about you than me, Frederick" James announced on his way back from the kitchen.  
The meeting with the house that had seen his love for Fanny bloom and grow, and that in every corner contained her memory, was harder than expected, as well as the meeting with the Harville who had passed from friends to relatives and then went back to being, tragically, just friends.  
Therefore, his words and manners, despite his happiness for Frederick, were more abrupt than intended. He placed the letter in the hands of his friend and apologised, heading towards the exit; he had to go out and seek respite to his pain. And was immediately followed by an extremely concerned Harry.

Frederick had no choice but to look down on the letter and pale as soon as he recognized the handwriting.

"Frederick!" Margareth Harville worried; she had never seen her friend in that condition. She barely had time to approach a chair on which he dropped heavily.  
He read and reread that letter countless times, which was evidently the answer to another from James, but without it, it was not easy to interpret Anne's sentences.  
Some points, however, were clear: she was still unmarried, still living in Kellynch Hall, she did not seem ill disposed towards him and, indeed, intending to ask forgiveness.  
In addition, she claimed to have always trusted in his abilities and finally, was not inclined to give too much confidence to an unknown interlocutor.

Those few lines gave him back that intelligent and wise Anne he had fallen in love with, eight years earlier.

"Frederick..." Margareth's voice was full of anxiety. For months now, the serenity was forgotten, in the Harville house. The illness and the tragic death of young Fanny, first, the mourning of the entire family, then, had put a strain on the natural tendency to cheerfulness of the youngest children, also.  
In all that pain, one person represented for all of them, a lifeline, a guarantee of lucidity and firmness: Frederick Wentworth.  
Instead, their dearest friend, sat, pale as a ghost, turning in his hands that mysterious letter that had passed from hand to hand. Margareth had seen him squint his eyes and carry a hand to his forehead as he read it. After the disaster that had struck her family, there was only one hypothesis that she could make about such a reaction:  
"Frederick, did you get any news that upset you?"  
He did not answer and did not lift up his eyes from the letter; he merely nodded.  
Accustomed to assisting the rest of the family, in an instant she had gone to the kitchen and returned with a glass of water that without him even realizing it, forced him to grasp with the hand that had continued to rub on his forehead, until then.  
The other hand held the letter firmly, as if it were the handrail of his ship, during a storm.  
"Did something bad happen?" She asked slowly. All she could think about was his family, sister or brother...  
"No, I would not say..." Frederick muttered like in a trance.  
"So what upset you?"  
He lifted up his head and looked at her, but his gaze was far off, like his mind, and he did not answer.  
"Sorry, I do not want to get involved in your business, but that letter came from the Admiralty. It was addressed to me and it contained the letter you see, addressed to James, who says it is for you, and you are so upset..." Margareth went on, definitely confused.

Harry asked about the same questions to James.  
When Margareth had opened the envelope and the letter, written by an elegant and refined hand that could only be feminine, had revealed the name of the fiancé of his beloved, just lost sister, he did not know what to think.  
A mysterious lady wrote secret letters to a man who mourned the loss of his beloved betrothed.  
The fact that James had delivered the letter to Frederick was, for Harry, partly a relief, but in part, it had definitely destabilised him.  
It was supposed that, of all the circle of relatives and friends, James was the most grieved. Frederick had gone to Plymouth precisely to provide comfort at that terrible time.  
Who, then, was the woman who wrote to his two bachelor friends? Harry was terribly confused.


	6. Chapter 6

"Did Anne write to you?" Frederick asked, "So are you involved in this, too?" He gave her an inquisitive look.  
"No!" Margareth strongly defended herself "And I have no idea who this Anne is, nor how she got my name!" 

"Anne" Frederick sighed, "Anne is simply the most..." He had to swallow to control the emotion. At that moment he was seized by the suspicion that her words, her calling herself ‘friend, however, in whatever condition, always’ were only her way of saying that her feelings had remained unchanged. And while he was thinking about his next move, Frederick, as in trance, replied to Margareth:  
"Anne is the most wonderful creature I have ever met"

"Oh, Frederick!" Margareth sighed and lightly touched his arm "Are you in love? This is really the good news we have been waiting for so long! Finally, something happy after so much sadness"

"Frederick in love?" Harry wondered when James' tale came to an end.  
"Yes, but things did not end well, Harry, and please do not tell him I told you. I only did it because I got your family involved in all this, so an explanation was due"   
"But if the lady in question answered your letter there are hopes, right? I do not think a tough guy like Wentworth trusted his heart to a woman of questionable morality, do you?" Harry’s mood was greatly improved by James' explanation.   
"To tell the truth, she was very moderate in her answer, but also clear in expressing her friendship for him"   
"Well, I hope our friend is packing his bags right now!" Harry joked, "He will take the first carriage to Somerset, I guess"  
James also smiled back, the first smile since the news of Fanny's death.

"It is not that simple, Margareth" Frederick replied, disconsolate "We broke up, in such a way..." He shook his head unable to say anything else.  
"But a woman who after so long responds to such a letter, Frederick, must feel something very strong, do you not think?" She answered softly.   
"And yet, it was she who broke off the engagement, although I suppose I should have insisted on knowing her motives, instead of letting myself go to anger"  
Margareth gave him a pat on the back.  
"I guess so. I cannot tell you what behaviour could have been best, Frederick, but I can tell you that a woman who takes such a risk," Her reference was that Anne, an unmarried woman, had replied to a letter from a celibate and unknown man, of course, and she was keen to point out that detail with her friend "She does not do it for a simple friendship. The risk would be too much greater than the benefit, otherwise. Remember that, Frederick"

When, finally, James returned and he and Frederick retreated to their shared room, all the missing information was provided. James showed Frederick the copy of the letter sent to Anne, and he was able to confirm that she had concisely, and clearly, answered the questions asked by his friend.

"What are you going to do now?" James asked.  
"I do not know. I do not think I can just present myself to Kellynch Hall. There are so many things that she and I need to clarify" He grimaced "If my brother were still living nearby, it would be easy, but under what pretext could I go back to her circle?" 

Besides, there was always the question of her family and the welcome they could give him. Although Frederick no longer felt the naive and idealistic young man who had presented himself to Sir Walter, convinced that his exceptional career and good intentions were enough to be accepted.  
And despite Margareth’s opinion, Anne’s feelings could not be taken for granted; she was naturally polite and kind and he, however, could not forget that she had already broken his heart, once.   
He had to consider his moves, not risk exposing himself too much or too soon.

"You could write to her, though," James suggested.  
"Yes, I considered this, although I would still have to resort to Margareth to do it. I do not want Anne’s reputation to be questioned"  
"I apologise if I went that far, Frederick" James looked him straight in the eye to make sure he conveyed his state unequivocally. He was perfectly aware that he had overstepped not only the limits of appropriateness, with Anne, but also that of confidence with Frederick, who would have every right to be angry at that heavy meddling in his life.

"Apologise?" Frederick slapped his friend on the shoulder "Without you, I would be a desperate man, now"  
"Me too" Murmured the other.  
"I am sorry, I did not mean..."   
"There is nothing to apologise for. If my pain served to make you reveal your secret and cause a hope to light up for you and Miss Anne, then I am happy too and I am sure that Fanny would have been also, and very much"   
"Surely" Frederick smiled softly "Such a tormented story would be one of her favourites" He was able to joke about the greatest pain of his life, only in an attempt to get a smile from his friend.   
"Yes, and you are the perfect romantic hero, do you not think?" The smile of James, arrived as expected, although still veiled with sadness "Tall, dark, and gloomy"

Frederick spent the night awake, but animated by a strange excitement, this time. His mind wandered in search of the words to use to answer Anne, because it was beyond doubt that now it was up to him to expose himself. James had opened the door to him and she had shown her willingness to welcome him, but he had to probe the ground, to understand how far that reception could go.   
There were still those eight years of life lived separately, between them, they were no longer two young lovers but two adults who could no longer afford the luxury of making mistakes. If life really were offering them a second chance, there certainly would not be a third.

Then, there was a lot of doubt.  
-You do not have to take for granted that her offer of friendship includes something else- Frederick said to himself, trying to stay grounded.  
Before he even tried to woo her, he had to apologise for his behaviour and clear up the past. There could not have been a future until they had dissolved the knots of the past, and it was difficult to do so at a distance, by correspondence and secretly.

Frederick mentally reviewed all the acquaintances he had made in Somerset, eight years earlier, to see if there was any close enough to try to ‘extort’ an invitation, an excuse to be in Anne’s company, but none came to his mind.   
Eight years before he had had no eyes and ears but for her.


	7. Chapter 7

Harry defined as Frederick's usual luck, the help that came, unhoped and completely unexpectedly, with the next day's mail.

Taunton, August the 18th 1814

My dear Frederick,  
I’m pleased to inform you that Edward’s wedding was  
truly beautiful and moving. Our new sister, Rose, is the  
most enchanting woman you can hope for.  
Of course, the newlyweds expect to receive a visit from  
you as soon as you are at liberty. Although, I suggest  
you give them some time alone, as any young couple  
should have. Not everyone is lucky enough to start a  
marriage on a ship full of men, as you know.

Frederick had no difficulty in imagining the ironic expression of his sister, in referring to her personal experience: married and immediately embarked on a man-of-war departing for the Mediterranean.

However, the Admiral and I hope to have you as our  
guest soon, certainly before you go to Shropshire,  
and by the way, we have finally identified two  
properties that might be appropriate for us.

Both are located in Somerset, which I must say, really  
fascinated me. I thank my beloved Admiral for  
bringing me to his homeland.  
Now it is just a matter of choosing. One of the two  
properties is really lovely. Admiral thinks it is even  
too large for us, and it is true, but you know that my  
wish is to reunite the family under the same roof and  
host as many friends as possible.  
I believe you know the area in question, because it is  
located a few miles away from the village where  
Edward lived for a few years....

-What? - Frederick thought, smiling thrilled.

.... is a beautiful estate, owned by a baronet who  
intends to move elsewhere and rent it. After all  
these years spent in all corners of the world, I really  
think that Kellynch Hall can be a kind of paradise  
for us...

"I cannot believe it!" He exclaimed aloud, laughing and arousing the curiosity of his friends, sitting in the tiny living room at a short distance from him.

Tomorrow, we will meet the owner and visit the interior.  
I really hope to reach an agreement because I am really  
in love with that place, and I think that even for you  
could be the ideal place to rest, after years and years  
at sea...

From there on, Frederick quickly spotted the rest of the letter.  
Even he could not believe his fortune: his sister Sophia was about to rent just Kellynch Hall! There could be no better excuse for him to go to Somerset!  
But what would become of Anne?  
Where was Sir Walter going to move?

Right off the bat, he decided to write to both, Anne and Sophia. There was no time to lose and going up the stairs two by two, he went to his room to implement his purpose. Leaving astonished Benwick and the Harvilles, without a single word.

Portsmouth, August the 24th 1814

Dear Miss Elliot,  
I write to you while I am a guest of the Harville family.  
Captain Harry Harville is a brotherly friend with whom  
I have served several times. He was my second in  
command when I was entrusted with HMS Asp, and  
he, Mrs Harville and their three adorable children are  
a kind of second family to me.

Frederick felt he owed her an explanation; Anna had been dragged into that world of strangers and had been 'pushed' to answer, having no idea who they were.

I thank you for having had the kindness to reply to  
the letter of my dear friend, Captain Benwick, who  
is like me, a guest in this house, and who is also a  
brotherly friend of mine.  
I apologise if the manner in which he contacted you  
may have seemed inappropriate, but he acted out of  
a sincere spirit of friendship.  
The same friendship I hope you will grant me again,  
Miss Anne.  
Not before, of course, I obtained your forgiveness  
for my inappropriate behaviour during our last  
meeting.  
In that regard, I have just learned that I have the  
opportunity to spend time in Somerset, a guest of  
my sister, Mrs Croft, and Admiral Croft. I suppose  
you must have become acquainted with them,  
because I know they have visited Kellynch Hall.  
To tell the truth, my sister was completely  
fascinated by the beauty of the place, so much so  
that she wanted to ask to rent the estate.  
I hope, therefore, to have the opportunity to pay you  
my respects in person, when I return to Somerset,  
are you planning to stay in the area?  
Am I too impertinent if asking you where I can  
present my greetings?  
If this will please you, you can send me a reply  
through Mrs Harville, who offered her kind availability  
on this matter, to the address that I enclose you.

Your faithful friend

Captain Frederick Wentworth


	8. Chapter 8

Anne did not believe her eyes.   
She held in her hands, not one of Frederick’s old letters, read and reread a thousand times, but a completely new one!

He had written to her!

She had given him the chance to make the next move and he did not waste any time!  
As had always been in his character, he had behaved directly and boldly.

In addition, in the meantime, she had even met his sister!  
Was it a coincidence that just the Crofts had reached an agreement with her father to become the tenants of the estate?

She felt like she was living a dream: Frederick on his way back!   
Although his letter was all politeness and decorum, he certainly had not written the passionate words of love letters or poems of eight years before. However, he intended to see her again, talk to her, ask her forgiveness, even.

He offered and asked only for friendship and Anne was torn between the prudence of not wanting to hope more, and the awareness of not being able to maintain this purpose.

Mrs Croft had been so kind and amiable to her that she had fostered the hope that there was a definite plan among the siblings; that it was not by chance that Frederick’s family was about to move into her home.   
Frederick’s sister had asked if she had met her brothers in the past, and to her, embarrassed, affirmative answer told profusely of Edward’s marriage and career in Shropshire. After that, Sophia Croft had particularly insisted on talking about her younger brother, Frederick, making it clear that he was still a bachelor and she would insist that, he would be her guest as soon as possible. She even hoped that he and Anne would have an opportunity to renew their acquaintance.  
Was hope, so irrational, then?

Determined to give a clear signal, she took pen and paper and wrote her answer.

Kellynch Hall, August the 29th 1814

Dear Captain Wentworth,  
not more than a week ago I had the opportunity to   
meet your charming sister and the Admiral. I must  
say that I had no opportunity to have such a lively and  
pleasant conversation, for a long time. And I am really   
glad that the admiral and my father have reached an   
agreement.   
I think you already know that the Crofts will be taking   
over Kellynch Hall, in exactly one month’s time; on   
St Michael’s Day.  
My family will have moved to Bath by then, but I will   
be staying in the area at least until Christmas, as a   
guest of my sister Mary, who is Mrs Musgrove now,   
in Uppercross.  
I know that your sister is expecting a visit from you   
and I believe it will not be difficult to exchange   
greetings.  
On that occasion, I hope to apologise for having   
provoked the behaviour that you have called   
inappropriate, but that I know to be perfectly   
excusable, given the circumstances.  
Please, consider yourself forgiven. A few words,   
spoken in a moment of anger, are not enough to   
affect the memory I have of you, and we know well   
that your intemperance was more than legitimate.  
I know I have lost the right to be counted among your   
friends, and therefore, I thank you for the kindness you   
show in wanting to grant me this honour again.

-Anne! You are always so good, so generous! - Her firm will to take responsibility for the end of their engagement left Frederick astonished; there was no desire to justify herself or to shelter behind the real, motivation of her young age, inexperience or bad advice.  
No, she with courage and perseverance took on all the mistakes, forgave the words of hatred that he had addressed her and even called herself not worthy of his friendship.

But, how could she not be worthy of his friendship if she deserved all his love?  
She, and she alone, was worthy of everything he had to offer.  
-How could I think I did not love you anymore? –

In just two letters, Anne had completely regained him, if ever she had lost him.  
Her courage, coupled with the shocking information obtained from Sophia, convinced him to change the tone of the next letter he would write to her.

Sophia had been completely conquered by Anne.  
How could it be otherwise? Despite being completely unaware of how close, they had been to becoming sisters.   
Frederick had never told her about his unfortunate engagement, and he was sure that Edward, whom he had sworn to an oath, had not done it either. Sophia's admiration, as well as the decision to rent Kellynch Hall, had been completely spontaneous.  
Her sister had written that she was amazed that a woman like Anne was still unmarried; the Admiral had stated that if she would be introduced to their circle of naval acquaintances, in a short time and with her competence in all naval matters, Miss Elliot would have a bevy of admirers.  
Frederick had swallowed the thick of jealousy that had caught him, completely unaware that the next passage of Sophia’s letter would leave him definitely breathless.

Mr Shepherd, Sir Walter's agent, had revealed to the Crofts that in reality the baronet's only son-in-law, Mr Charles Musgrove, had been firmly intent on marrying Miss Anne. He had courted her in all possible and imaginable ways, with the help of her family and with that of Lady Russell who was very favourable to the bond between the two young people. It had all been useless however, because Miss Anne had answered a categorical and clear refusal. Moreover, her kindness had kept her the friendship and respect of the young Charles Musgrove and his family. So, after a period of long faces and arguments with her father and godmother, Anne was left alone, and soon the young Musgrove had opted for her younger sister and had become, in any case, Sir Walter's son-in-law.

So Anne had turned down a marriage proposal?  
By a man well liked by her family, moreover!

Why?  
-For me? - Frederick could not help but ask the question.

She had affirmed her constancy, asked forgiveness for breaking his heart, refused another man.  
There was nothing more that Frederick’s heart needed to address her with greater frankness and passion.


	9. Chapter 9

Portsmouth, September the 5Th 1814

My dear Miss Elliot,  
Anne,  
I hope you will be pleased to know that my sister has   
been totally conquered by you.  
How could it be otherwise?  
I envy the wonderful conversation I am sure you have   
had, and I hope there can be more; I hope I can take   
part in it.  
I know that many divergences between us need to be   
resolved but I am not willing to let your shoulders alone   
carry the burden. I do not intend to shirk my responsibilities.  
You claim to have provoked my inappropriate behaviour   
and that it was perfectly excusable, but I disagree.  
I cannot and will not deny that I was hurt, almost fatally,   
by your change of intentions. But, equally, I cannot and I   
do not want to deny that I was probably too weak and   
unjust to recognise those merits and virtues that I have   
accused you of lacking, too hastily.  
Please, Anne, do not say you do not deserve my friendship;   
no one deserves it more than you.  
No one has ever been dearer to me, than you.  
No one has ever hurt my heart like you, yet I have not been   
willing to give it back to anyone like I am to you.  
I live in anticipation of the moment you will do me the   
honour of explaining to me the reasons that led you to   
separate our paths eight years ago.  
But also, in the determination to fight to win back your heart,   
the only one, for me, deserving to be won.

Since ever, for ever,   
your  
Frederick

At the Harville home, this close correspondence was viewed with growing curiosity.  
Frederick was torn between anxiously awaiting Anne's letters and preparations for moving to Kellynch Hall.  
Sophia had insisted on extending the invitation to Benwick and the Harvilles as well, in the hope that the removal from the place so inextricably linked to the memory of Fanny would benefit them. And in fact, Frederick's enthusiasm for the upcoming trip, as well as the curiosity to finally meet the famous Miss Anne, had ended up infecting them and alleviating, at least in part, their pain.

In Kellynch, on the other hand, a decidedly different atmosphere reigned.  
Sir Walter and Elisabeth had made their move to Bath, as in their style, as demanding and stressful as possible, for the servants and for Anne herself, whose situation had not improved even with the move to Uppercross. There, Mary was waiting for her to be able to entrust her with the care of her children, as well as of herself.

But the worst was the excitement that had arisen between the young daughters of the Musgroves and their cousins, around the arrival of Mrs Croft’s long-awaited brother.

The fame of Captain Wentworth's fortune had immediately made him the most coveted bachelor in the district and sparked a real competition between the various families, to be able to have him as a guest at dinner, to any mundane commitment and of course to grab him as a son-in-law.

All this could only increase Anne's anxiety, who felt she could absolutely not compete with those young beauties and was afraid of being condemned to having to watch helplessly as a bond was formed between Frederick and some other young lady, while she was relegated to her role of a simple friend.

Until she received his last letter and she needed a whole morning, shut up in her room, to recover.  
Even more at the thought that by now, Frederick must have already started the journey to Somerset.

The change in his tone had been sudden.  
His cold, almost detached education had given way to his usual passion and frankness.  
In short, he had declared himself.

He demanded explanations, of course. Nonetheless, he defined himself determined to win her back, and signed himself as ‘hers’.  
Could this have left her indifferent?  
No.

Everything else became indifferent to her. Mary's complaints, the other young ladies' plans to conquer, but not Frederick's words; not his passion for which she had to answer with equal sincerity.

Uppercross, September the 12th 1814

My dear Captain Wentworth,  
I am sure there will be opportunities to entertain those   
beautiful, lovely conversations that we once used to   
share. If you still want to be so generous as to tell me   
about your adventures at sea, you know with how   
much interest and enthusiasm I am ready to   
welcome them.  
Nonetheless, other conversations, more private and   
certainly, more painful, will have to happen between   
us, Frederick.  
It still hurts me to know that I caused you pain.   
Please, do know that I have always felt that sorrow,   
since the moment I made that fatal decision, to today.   
It was not with a light heart that I changed my intentions,   
but after long painful considerations. I know I broke your   
heart and I am aware it cannot be any comfort to you to be   
informed that by doing so, I also broke mine.  
What guided me was not a whim but a sense of duty, and   
I am sure that you, most of all, can understand what I   
am talking about. Your life as a man and as an officer   
in His Majesty's Navy is made up of duties towards our   
country, and our King. My life as a woman is made up   
of duties towards the family which, then more than ever,   
was the centre of my life. You know well that without the   
support and sustenance of my family I would have been   
nothing but a burden on your shoulders. I would have   
been the anchor that would have kept you ashore, far   
from that sea you love so much and from the career for   
which you had worked so hard. To my credit, I can only   
say that despite the courage I have forced myself to   
have to break my pledge to you, and remain inertly   
seeing you go away, it was not enough to prevent me   
from regretting my decision at the very moment in which   
I had the certainty of having lost you when your eyes   
looked at me with all the contempt I knew I deserved.  
I had to use all my strength to resist the urge to follow   
you, to ask your forgiveness immediately, to run away   
with you.  
But would you have become what you are today if I   
had done it?  
Or would the uncertainties and worries had consumed   
us both? Today, I know, with certainty, that I do not have   
a family that deserved my sacrifice, but I know that you,   
deserved it, that you deserved not to have a burden on  
your shoulders.  
As for winning my heart, it is a mission that you have   
accomplished only once, it does not need to be repeated.

Forever yours

Anne


	10. Chapter 10

-Now enough! A definitive word that is what I want! -  
-There are been enough talk about the past, I want to think about the future!-  
Frederick's impatience was what kept him awake, those last few nights in Portsmouth. 

"Still anxious?" Asked the sleepy voice of James who must have been awakened by his friend's constant tossing and turning in bed.  
“No, impatience! Sophia won't take over Kellynch Hall until 29, but Anne and I have already cleared up most of our divergences and all this stillness is torture!"

James smiled and commented:  
"It is like trying to keep a ferocious beast in a cage" He knew Frederick and his impetus well; it was exactly what had led him to many successful naval feats.  
"Why do you not leave earlier than expected and surprise her?" He then proposed, partly amused and partly pitied by the mood of his friend.

Frederick wasted only a few moments pondering the possibility; James's advice, again, seemed to brighten his hopes.  
"I could really do it, but I do not want to completely surprise her, that would be too bold" He answered thoughtfully, and in his mind, he composed the words that he would fix on paper the next morning.

Portsmouth, September the 17th 1814

My beloved Anne,

I can bear no longer to stay away from you,  
you pierced my soul,  
I'm half agony half hope,  
I need a certainty like the air I breathe.  
I have loved none but you,  
for you alone, I think and plan  
I offer myself again to you with a heart even more  
your own than when you almost broke it, eight  
years ago.   
My feelings are unchanged.  
I can no longer wait for my sister's appointed day;   
I shall leave for Uppercross today, I must be certain   
of my fate.  
If there is just one possibility that even your feelings   
have remained unchanged, a word a look will be   
enough to make me yours forever or never again;   
only you can make my happiness or my despair.

In a few days, I will be with you and I will know   
my fate; until then I can only  
convey you all my love

Frederick

Anne closed the letter before Mary became curious and asked for an account, and hastily put it back in her apron pocket.  
-He was already on his way! He could have come at any moment! -  
And with what intentions! He was coming to propose! Again!

A few steps away from her, the young Musgrove girls were peering through a fashion catalogue in search of a model who could win him over.  
Anne felt almost guilty about the secret she kept, but also decidedly inadequate for the competition that surrounded her.

Frederick did not seem to care at all, about her age or what might have been her current appearance; in his mind, she was probably the nineteen years old girl, Anne was been, eight years earlier.  
Would he still have found her attractive?

The thought made her nervous to the point that shortly thereafter she came up with the excuse of a sudden headache so that she could retire to her room where she went through her entire wardrobe, and with immense frustration found nothing that could be remotely fashionable or however suitable for the occasion.  
What forced her to leave her room, so quickly that she only had time to wear her pelisse directly over her petticoat, were Mary's mangled screams combined with the cry of one of the children and the excited voices of the two Mr Musgrove, father and son.

It had happened that little Charles, Anne's older nephew, had suffered a bad fall and had broken his arm. Mary, far from being of any help, had fallen prey to hysterics and continued to cry and scream while saying she was sure that her child would die.  
Naturally, her statements caused the older child's crying to double, that of the younger one to begin, and her husband, Charles, to give in to despair.  
As always, the only one able to restore order to that collective madness was Anne.

It was late at night when Anne managed to lie down on the mattress that had been set up for her on the drawing-room floor. After long suffering, Mary had been the first to retire to her room, claiming the need for rest that every mother has as a result of such a fright; little Walter had fallen asleep in Anne's arms and the drawing-room sofa had been set up for little Charles. Just to be able to look after him better, his loving aunt was forced to that makeshift bed in which she was preparing to retire, exhausted.

Before blowing out the candle, however, Anne would have liked to reread the letter in which Frederick had poured all his impetuousness but the child, who could not find a comfortable position, forced her to push away the tiredness and return to take care of him.


	11. Chapter 11

The morning came too early, the hours of sleep had been too few and the tiredness had not been able to disappear. The shouts of joy from the Miss Musgroves reached Anne's ears like stabs in living flesh.

"Is coming! He is coming!"  
"Hurry, hurry, he is here!"  
Mary immediately complained:  
"I say, what do they have to scream like two strangled chickens?"

Anne did not have time to formulate some answer, Louisa and Henrietta had already entered, shouting all excited:  
"Captain Wentworth is here!"  
"He just arrived in Uppercross and immediately asked for us!"  
"For you?" Mary asked huffily.   
"For the Musgroves" Henrietta replied dreamily.  
"Yes, Charles is accompanying him here" Louisa echoed entranced "He is the most attractive man I have ever seen!"  
Anne only managed to run a hand over her chignon from which some unruly tufts emerged. Behind the shoulders of the two sisters, framed in the space of the open door, the unmistakable silhouette of the one who had populated her dreams for the last eight years was approaching, with his usual confident and elegant gait.

She felt her cheeks burning and turned to the window. Praying to be able to look the slightest presentable at least, she ran her hands over the modest and wrinkled dress she had worn in the rush of the night before, and instinctively grabbed the small key that hung from her neck.  
That key opened the treasure chest that contained all the memories of him, his letters, his poems, everything that was most dear to her in the world and everything that, until then, had represented their bond.

Charles's voice reached her like a distant hum, while the warm and deep timbre of the other male voice gave her a shiver that ran down her spine, making her leap.

"Allow me to introduce you to my wife, Mrs Mary Musgrove, Captain" Charles Musgrove's obsequious voice and the gesture of his hand indicated a woman on whom Frederick's gaze fell only for a moment. Automatically, out of politeness, he bowed at her, yet, his eyes never left the other woman present in the room.

Her slender figure, from behind and with her back slightly bent as if were really she, alone, to support all the weight of the tension that, at that moment, seemed to envelop the entire universe.  
Frederick saw her tremble. The very light fabric of her gown could not hide the bones of her shoulder blades and he was lost in mentally tracing the outlines that had once been so familiar.

Then, suddenly, she turned and the forest green of her eyes landed on him, framed by the whiteness of her skin, her dark hair that seemed to want to rebel against the constriction of the hairstyle. Her rosy lips hinted a nervous smile as the beloved, sighed and long-regretted blush he had always adored, was suffusing her cheeks.  
It was at that moment that Mary, following the Captain's gaze, remembered that Anne had not been introduced.  
"Oh, and this is my older sister, Anne" She said with utter nonchalance, unaware of the magic unfolding in front of them all.

"We are acquainted" Frederick muttered slowly.  
He would have liked to take a step towards her but was still waiting for her answer and could not indulge to approach if she had not consented; he no longer trusted himself.

His Annie, so close, so reachable.  
Would he have had the strength to leave that room without first holding her in his arms?

She was there trembling and vulnerable. With one hand she held something hanging from her neck as if her whole life depended on that object.  
Like a buzz, Frederick heard Mrs Musgrove's voice asking for an explanation.   
And then, the miracle: Anne's sweet and warm as a caressing voice, gently replying:  
"It was a long time ago; you were away at school"  
And a smile.  
One of her beautiful, bright smiles.  
She looked him in the eyes and with the magic of that green forest, underlined by the gown of the same colour and always continuing to fiddle with her pendant, she nodded slightly, in a way perhaps imperceptible to the others, but clear enough for him that could finally push away the tension and smile back.

Never ceasing to look her in the eye and smile at her, Frederick moved slightly closer.

"Nonetheless, the time has been generous with you, Miss Anne," He told her enchanted "You are even more beautiful than I remembered"  
Anne let out a little laugh, she knew very well that she was in the greatest possible disorder, that morning.  
He, on the other hand, was really even more beautiful. The handsome angelic-faced boy he had been, had given way to a man more mature but also more virile, more confident. Even his shoulders seemed wider, his nimble and athletic figure appeared even more imposing.

Around them the voice, almost hysterical, of Mary who kept asking for explanations, now accompanied by those of the two young ladies and the gentleman.

Only then, Frederick realized that everyone was trying to get his attention, one way or another, but nothing could distract him from her. For eight long years, he had longed for the vision of the one who possessed his heart.

One more step and he came in front of her.

Anne held out her trembling hand that had hitherto remained hidden behind her side, and he took it gently but also with determination; savouring the touch of her bare skin, his thumb ran along its smooth and softback, before softly taking it to his lips.

Behind Frederick, someone snorted, reminding the two lovers that they were not alone.

"Will you allow me, Mr Musgrove, to have a word with Miss Anne, in private?" Frederick said, forcing himself to look away from her and turning to Charles, but not before letting himself to bask in the new blush that his kiss had aroused in her and smile back to the beaming smile that had followed.

“With Anne? In private?" It was Mary's sourly voice that answered, before her husband's "And why on earth?"   
"To end a conversation that has been pending between us for too long, Mrs Musgrove" He replied politely, but with a firmness that convinced Charles to finally take a stance:   
"Of course ..." He stammered confused.

And a few minutes later, Anne and Frederick were in the garden, alone, though perfectly aware of the stares watching them from the window; there were the shocked ones of the Misses Musgrove and the astonished ones of Charles and Mary. Although the latter, sensing the let-down of the young and not exactly loved sisters-in-law, began to hope for an act of revenge on them, at the hands of her sister.

"Anne" Frederick began in a strangely trembling voice "Have I been too impetuous presenting myself to you, like that?"  
"No" She whispered softly, trying to normalize her laboured breathing.   
"I hope my letter has preceded me" He murmured, and seeing her nod in silence he could not help but impatiently ask:  
"Well? Your answer…?"   
"My answer is the same one I gave you eight years ago" She affirmed with sudden confidence and looking up at his face "My feelings have never changed, Frederick"  
"Never, not even when I thought it was right to let you go" She added in a whisper. 

"So, I just have to ask for your hand?" He asked, with that lovely rascal and almost impertinent expression that Anne had always adored.  
"Yes, if you are really willing to do it" She replied in the same impertinent tone, completely leave him caught off guard.   
She had felt tears come to her eyes and had decided to indulge him in his game; there had been too many tears in those long eight years of separation.  
Frederick laughed, happy as ever; that new version of Anne, more mischievous and ironic, fascinated him even more.

But reason took over again and she felt the need to clarify:  
"Perhaps, there are further explanations you need to understand the past, Frederick"  
"All I need to know, for now, Anne, is that you still love me"  
She nodded:  
"I have never stopped doing it"  
And then, hesitantly, she added:  
"And you?" 

“I foolishly thought I did it” He shook his head “But, luckily a friend forced me to look deep inside my heart. And I realised that you had never abandoned it, Anne; it has always and only belonged to you" 

"Commander Benwick?"  
"Yes, it only pains me that he had to lose his love so that I felt sympathetic enough to share our story with him"   
"And isn't there the possibility that he too can regain his loved one?"   
"Not that" Frederick shook his head again "Unfortunately, his betrothed died three months ago"


	12. Chapter 12 Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we come to the end.  
> This is the right opportunity to say how flattered I am by your kind comments.  
> Thank you all, very much.  
> Your appreciation will probably push me to let some other stories out of my pc, among those that populate my head, so that the enjoyment is not only mine.  
> I hope you will rejoice in the ending of this little story.
> 
> Juliette

Epilogue: ten months later

Frederick went two by two up the staircase leading to the bedrooms of Kellynch Hall. On the way, he got rid of his tie and took off his dress uniform jacket; a more informal outfit was required for the task that awaited him.

"Shhhh" Anne whispered smiling when she heard him open the door.  
Sitting in the nursery rocking chair, she was cradling her one-week-old baby boy.

"How was the wedding?" She asked in a low voice as he bent down to kiss her and with his big hand touched the cheek of their son who was sleeping peacefully.  
"James was very excited, although never as excited as I was on our wedding day" He winked, searching his wife's lips again "The Musgroves, unruly and loud as usual" He added laughing.  
“And Louisa? Wasn't she excited?"  
"Lively, as usual, I would say" Frederick shrugged and laughed again, as Anne stood up to put the baby in the crib "I shall never stop wondering what those two have in common, but I am just glad to know James is happy again"  
"Love knows mysterious ways, Captain" She whispered mischievously, before throwing her arms around his neck and drawing him to her in a passionate kiss.  
"Definitely, Mrs Wentworth, and I am glad it was through you that he too has found love again. He helped me regain you and you repaid him by introducing him to Louisa" He laughed, before kissing her again.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt in sharing a novel, and I'm not an English mother tongue, so sorry for grammatical errors.  
> Please be kind.  
> Constructive criticism will be appreciated.  
> Hope you will enjoy this small story.


End file.
